mum's pov

That continued in our family until I turned 8. Dad filed for a divorce, yeah,he was tired of her shitty attitudes and could not bear it again. My parents divorced and dad fought to gain custody. He tried so hard but no one knew how it happened, I was placed under Mum's custody. I wasn't allowed to choose for myself.

My father later got married to Aunt Sewa (the secretary) and she became pregnant.

My mum moved out of the old building likewise Dad and we moved to Ikeja, Lagos State because it was closer to the bank.

In our new house, we have 3 neighbors cos it was a stormy building with 4 flats. We were staying up with a young couple and downstairs was occupied by an old woman and a single mother. The young couple staying with us (Aunt Taurus and Uncle Samson) are both teachers but they aren't working in the same school. The wife works till 4pm and goes for private lesson while the husband comes home after school.

When Mum was looking out for a school to enroll me, the wife came to advertise they school they work. They decided that I'll attend the school where the husband works and he'll take me private lesson after school.

Staying with Uncle Samson was the beginning of my dilemma.

I began to attend CHAMPIONS SCHOOLS and I was the best in my class. I've got sharp brain that is more than my age capacity.

Everyday after school, I wait for Uncle Samson to clear his desk before we go home. My mom usually drop clothe for me to change into for my private lesson.

Everything started with him constantly looking at me when I change and it graduated to him pulling my dress and touching me. Everything started with JUST A TOUCH . Initially, I told him I can pull my dress but he kept hesitating so I had to give in.

"Come here Iyanu, let me pull your dress for you." He had said that day.

"Don't worry uncle, I can pull it myself."

"I am not deaf. C'mon little girl let me help you with the zipper."

"Uncle Samson, I am no little girl."

"If you aren't a little girl, do as l have said."

I went closer and he first pulled down the zipper then he told me to raise my hand and he started caressing my body . The touch felt somehow but I really liked it. It felt like heaven and I used the moment to enjoy the feeling.

He finally pulled the clothes and told me to put on my dress. I did as he told me and he smiled. That smile, I couldn't tell the meaning.

Later they night, I asked my myself

"Why did I feel that way when he touched me? Was it the touch or my body? These questions I didn't get answer to. I concluded that I was going to let him pull my dress the next day and if I continue to feel that way, I'll let him keep touching me.

The next day after school, I expected him to pull my dress but he didn't . I took up the courage and called him

"Uncle Samson?"

"Yes baby"

"Help me pull my dress." I had said to him

He looked at me and said; "Wow, you're becoming a good girl."

He pulled my dress and caressed me for a very long time before he stopped. Later, I asked him

"Why does your touch feel different or is it my body because my daddy has pulled my dress countless times but nothing happened."

"That because my hand is magical." He said

"Your hand is magical?"

"Yes."

"So my Dad's hand isn't magical? I'll ask mum if her hand is magical."

"No you can't ask your mom."

"Why?"

"Because Erm I'm the only one with magic hands and if you tell another person about it, it won't work again or don't you want it to work?"

"I want it to work. I won't tell anyone."

Good girl.